


Solitary Surveillance

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Sentinel Thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: Jim is on a solitary surveillance





	Solitary Surveillance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sentinel Thursday prompt 'cold and wet'

Solitary Surveillance

by Bluewolf

The one time Jim regretted not having a partner was when he was on a stakeout.

He and Jack Pendergrast had discussed many things to while away the often fruitless hours spent watching, waiting for whatever bad guys they were trying to catch in the act, but after Jack's disappearance Jim had refused to be partnered again. Not after all the things he had heard 'whispered', usually in voices loud enough for the words to be heard quite clearly, by his fellow cops. Not when so many of them seemed to be convinced that Jack had stolen the ransom money for Philip Brackley, and had probably given Jim a share of it.

The voices had become quieter after Jim punched one particularly vocal Missing Persons officer, knocking him out. Jim had been suspended without pay for a month following that incident, but he considered it a small price to pay for the silence - at least in his hearing - regarding Jack's failure to bring young Brackley home.

Jim had no idea what had happened; but of one thing he was convinced - Jack had not stolen that money. Which meant that the kidnappers had probably killed him when he delivered the money.

Now, a year later, Jim sat huddled against a small rock near a now-disused lumber mill. Just why he had been given the job of watching it he was far from sure... but he was miserable. He was hearing things he shouldn't be able to hear. But, as well, he was soaked by the rain, which had been falling steadily for the past three days. And he was cold. And frustrated.

There had been no sign of life at the lumber mill. Nothing.

Usually he didn't much care how long he was left on stakeout, but in these adverse weather conditions he found himself wondering why he hadn't been relieved. Even if he'd had a tent, four days of unrelieved rain and temperatures close to freezing would still have left him cold and wet, because he couldn't have spent all his time in it; without a tent, his waterproof jacket had proved to be ineffective, and - conscientious though he was - he was beginning to think that he would have to abandon the stakeout and go home to dry out and warm up.

Oh, he would report that he was doing that, and if necessary argue that if he spent much longer in these conditions hypothermia was unavoidable and could kill him.

Though he was surprised that Simon Banks had left him out there quite so long. Granted, Banks knew he was willing, more than willing, to undertake these solitary stakeouts, but in these weather conditions...

He began to pack up the few things he had considered necessary for the job - the sleeping bag that was also now soaked, the waterproof container of food that was nearly empty - another sign that he had been left out there too long - and made his unsteady way the half mile to his truck. He fumbled the key into the lock, opened the door, threw his things in and scrambled in after them. He started the engine and began to drive slowly down the track.

At least he was now out of the rain!

He drove far enough that nobody - he hoped - would be able to connect him to the lumber mill before stopping and pulling out his cell phone. He dialled.

"Banks."

"Ellison, sir. I've had to abandon the surveillance - "

"Abandon - "

"Yes, sir. I'm having to go home to get dry and warm up. If I don't, someone will be retrieving a corpse."

"Wait a minute -  Didn't anyone come out to relieve you?"

"No, sir."

"All right. Yes, you go home - take tomorrow off. Report to me the day after tomorrow. By then I might have found out either who didn't order someone to relieve you, or who was given the order and ignored it. I certainly didn't realize you were still out there in this weather."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

Jim hung up, wondering... He had a strong suspicion that this was a direct result of his defence of Jack Pendergrast, though he'd thought Jack was well enough liked... Okay, the guy had gambling debts it would take him years to repay, but it was the bookie he owed that money to - and would any of the other cops turn against _their_ partners? He doubted it.

He shook his head as he restarted the truck and switched on the heater, now that the engine had warmed up enough for it to give him some heat.

Once he reached home, he sat for a moment, then gathered up his sleeping bag and the bag of food, and paused long enough to lock the truck, then ran for the door of 852. The elevator was sitting at ground level; he took it, stumbled along the corridor to No. 307, and almost fell through the door.

He had left the heating on at low; after the conditions outside, it felt like a hothouse.

One last effort... He took the sleeping bag into the bathroom and draped it so that it would drip into the bath. He scrambled out of his wet clothes and dropped them into the bath as well. Then he dragged himself up the stairs to bed.

***

He was in the middle of getting a late breakfast when the phone rang.

"Ellison."

"Banks. Jim, someone was sent out to relieve you two days ago. Timmons, from Narcotics. His car has just been found - it went off the road and he was killed. But something about the accident scene looks suspicious, and we're wondering if the gang that was reported to be using the lumber mill found out about the surveillance and forced Timmons' car off the road."

"If the gang knows the mill is being watched I suppose they'll move on to somewhere else," Jim said slowly.

"Probably. Anyway, I wanted to let you know you weren't left out there deliberately. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir - and thank you."

Jim hung up, and spared a thought for the unfortunate Timmons. The gang might not have intended to kill, but they had...

He turned back to his breakfast. Once he had finished eating, he had clothes and a sleeping bag to wash and dry properly... and then he would get himself wrapped up and enjoy feeling warm again.

 


End file.
